


In His Eyes Lie Fire

by xandervonodd



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Lots of It, Armie is courting him tho, Character Development, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Feelings Realization, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, Timothée is cold as ice, but I know we're I'm going with this, but not like every single chapter, it's going to be a rollercoaster, shit gets dark in this world, there may be some mentions of gratuitous death, they're both assassins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xandervonodd/pseuds/xandervonodd
Summary: I had a dream I fell in love with an assassin so I decided to channel that into this story lol. I’m honestly feeling super inspired so this story will be updated pretty quickly... for now!





	1. Armand

The man dropped to the ground with quite a disturbing thud as the bullet pierced through the back of his skull and exited right between his eyes. He fell face first onto the hood of his car and slid down to the rough ground beneath him. The blood was quickly washed away by the downpour but that doesn't mean there wasn't a good amount of it. The eggs and milk he had purchased laid right by him, somehow unphased.

"Done." Armie texted to a repeating number he would never text again.

It was his 90th kill. He was the second most proficient member of the state quell squad, only outranked by Timothee whose kill count was more than double of Armie's despite the former being almost a full decade younger in age and having worked for the squad for a mere 3 years. Some would say they had an intense rivalry but in reality, Timothee existed in his own dimension. He rarely showed up for any of the mandatory meetings and if he did he acknowledged only his superiors. The rest of the squad would try to talk his ear off and he'd walk right past them like they never even existed.

There was talk that Timothee's numbers were inflated and his position was so glorified due to his father being the founding member of the quell squad but whenever the talk arose he'd send out his victim's body parts to anyone who spoke his name. It was a sign that he wasn't to be fucked with and that, contrary to his small and slender frame, he could easily take out anyone he chose to. Regardless of state affiliation or not.

Armie and Timothee had similar styles to their hits. Both preferred to lurk in the shadows and get the job done quickly and cleanly. There have been times where Armie had to use brute force but Timothee had a perfect record, he only carried one bullet in his guns for a reason. No one was quite sure how he got so good at his job in such a short amount of time but it may have been due to his upbringing. Timothee's entire world was uprooted due to murder.

One night while his father was away on a mission, Timothee and his mother were in their home cooking. A beautiful cornucopia of food adorned the kitchen counter, the smell was absolutely heavenly and provided a delicate warmth as the snow raged outside. It was Thanksgiving day. Timothee headed into the basement to fetch some extra plates for the table and when he returned his mom was slouched against the fridge with food all over the floor. She had been shot square in the head. Timothee was only a tender adolescent at the time but the image has never left his head.

Once a brash yet adorable kid was immediately hardened and made aware of a dark world outside of him. His warm, optimistic outlook on life was gone with his mother and replaced by a frigid and detached persona. The only person allowed to get close to Timothee was his dad and even he would express fears when discussing his son.

 

"Good job today, Armie," Secretary Donson remarked.

It was the last meeting before the holiday break. The quiet snowfall outside signaling that the squad could finally wind down with their families. It was a small squad, only 5 members who were all recruited by the government. The requirements and qualifications unknown, very few, if any, similarities between the members and their backgrounds. Their job was simple, take out anyone deemed an enemy to the state. Not many people envision a career in murder but in this society, if you were handed such a pristine opportunity then you simply did not say no. Better to stand with the state than to be dead.

Timothee was the last member to enter the room. As he did, jaws hit the floor and murmurs began to roar. The secretary's face went flush, the stenographer couldn't stop shaking and all across the table, there was a weird contradiction of respect and terror in the air.

"Very glad to see you Mr. Chalamet, we weren't expecting you today," Donson said.

Timothee reclined back into the seat and offered no response. That was his usual method. The secretary took a ridiculous gulp of his water and started the meeting.

"I would first like to say good job to you all. We've gotten rid of all of our targets so you will all be free to enjoy some time off until Intelligence brings us a new list."  
"Were the rankings updated?" Isaac asked. The last time the rankings were updated he was third in terms of proficiency.  
"They have been yes. All of the rankings are still the same but you've increased your numbers quite considerably. I'd also like to commend Mr. Chalamet for crossing the 300 number."  
"I call bullshit!" Isaac interrupted. "He was just barely at 200 at the end of the summer how did he get to 300 by the middle of fucking December?"  
"Tim- sorry, Mr. Chalamet receives more targets than all of you put together, that's why. His numbers are the definition of perfect and he's the most impressive member this squad has seen since it's inception."  
"I could do just as well if you gave me some more people!"  
"They did give you more people." Timothee's tone was sharp. "Except, you kept missing so I would have to pick up your slack."  
"I.. I just think that if I could have gotten a few more-"  
"Isaac," Timothee had yet to even turn to face him. He had no respect for Isaac.  
"Yes, sir?"  
"Do not speak for the rest of this meeting."

Isaac's eyes fell to the ground and he did exactly as told. Timothee was not someone who would repeat their words. If you didn't comprehend them the first time then there would be less than desirable consequences.

"Anything else we need to discuss or can we go home?" Armie piped in.  
"Meeting's adjourned," the secretary said while twiddling his thumbs.

One would think such a team would be a bit more professional but in the presence of Timothee, it's like everyone loses their mind, everyone except Armie of course. He looks at Timothee more like a peer even though they are worlds apart in all aspects of life. Everyone packed up and scurried out of the room leaving Timothee and Armie as the last two still inside.

Timothee pushed off the table to get closer to the window, maybe he liked to watch the snow fall Armie thought. He took a step toward him but before he could even put his foot down Timothee was standing upright staring directly at him. That boy was impossibly quick. His eyes held Armie in place like magic, freezing the blood in his veins until it expanded so wide that it seeped out of his body.

"I was just going to say congrats on the impressive kill count," Armie said while extending his hand for a shake.

Timothee had yet to move the slightest muscle.

"Thank you. That's literally all you have to say, it's not that difficult." It took some balls for Armie to get that out.  
"Thank you, Armand."

Armand. Armie despised when people called him that, no one ever calls him that except for his parents when he was in trouble and that stopped two decades ago. For him, it was the ultimate sign of disrespect and a virtual slap in the face. Timothee delivered it with enough venom to take down an entire stable of horses and then turned back to face the snow. Armie stood in the same spot, totally unaware of how to approach the situation.

Armie thought that Timothee may have had a slither of respect for him since he and his father had a very tight-knit bond but that action confirmed no such feeling ever existed. It burned Armie deeper than he thought it would, too. He's never expressed it to anyone but Armie has always thought very highly of Timothee and he even thought of it as a slight crush. He knew it went beyond simple adoration when he found himself jerking off while thinking of Timothee.

He was thinking of how he'd like to toss that slender frame of his all over the bed and making him pant like a dog. He was thinking of how he wanted to push Timothee up against a wall and rip his pants off with his bare hands and fucking the breath out of him. He wanted to watch those pretty lips around his big dick. He wanted to yank on his hair while he had Timothee face down ass up getting his hole mercilessly drilled. Armie saw Timothee as the challenge to end all challenges and he did feel a slight fire whenever he came around.

"I prefer Armie," he said in a tone much softer and less intimidating than imagined. He took a few steps forward. "But you can call me-"  
"I will rip your spine out of your back and shove it down your throat."

How could someone so adorable and tiny be full of such animosity? Armie didn't know where to go from this but he did know that Timothee saw him just as he saw everyone else: as nothing. It did hurt him a little but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a nice jerk off session.

"I didn't mean any disrespect, it's just that only parents call me that and so it really bugs me when other people-"  
"Stop speaking," Timothee cut him off.

Armie swallowed his pride and decided he was just going to have to take a loss on this one. He went back to his chair for his jacket and car keys. Before exiting the room he turned to get one more look at Timothee. His suit was perfectly fitted to his slender body and his ass looked magnificent in those pants. His hair was slicked back except for a single strand that fell across his left eye, his face was calm and smooth. He looked like a million dollar man with the snowy backdrop.

"Happy holidays, Timothee!" To say that Armie was about piss himself would be the understatement of the year. He and Timothee both knew how disrespected Armie felt to be called by his first name so to return the favor was a total bitch move. A brazen display that any lesser man wouldn't even dream of doing.

Timothee turned his head slightly to face him. A half grin and an extremely light chuckle escaped him. It was the most emotion Armie had ever seen him display. He turned back to face the window and Armie quietly crept out of the room closing the door behind him. He needed to race home because he was about to blow the biggest load reminiscing on what just happened.


	2. Misty

"Two more please," Carla said tapping her wine glass. She and Armie were red wine drinkers, cabernet. Dry to a point you're wondering just what the hell is even in the glass. "So, because he gave you a grin you think you're in now?" She posed to Armie.  
"I know, on its own, it's pretty ridiculous but you have to understand he literally gives away nothing. That little grin was a huge step!" He proclaimed. His full glass of wine already pressed to his lips.  
"I'm just not sure about him. You've been going on and on for like a year about how much you want to fuck this guy and all the progress you've made thus far has just been a grin."  
"True. I don't even have his number."  
"He doesn't want you."  
"He has to want someone! Nobody can go through life totally on their own."  
"Well..."  
"Nobody good looking, at least," he replied.  
"Ah, privilege."  
"Let's toast to that."  
"To privilege!" They said in sarcastic unison. 

Misty by Sarah Vaughan played softly through the bar speakers as the dream boy himself walked through the mighty Victorian doors and made his way to the far end of the bar, he came alone. Armie watched him cautiously as he ordered his drink, it was a Macallan 25. A bottle of which could run into the four-digit range. He swirled it slightly in the glass, gave it a whiff and took a small sip. His expression didn't change, his nose didn't twitch, his eyes didn't bulge, he drank it like a man that's seen far more things than he should have. A man that is beyond the point of being hurt and is now numb. Listlessly floating through the ebbs and flows of life.

Sarah's velvet voice combined with the running thoughts of Timothee in his head moistened Armie's eyes to an almost embarrassing degree. He quickly rubbed it all the way and shifted his focus back to Carla. 

"He's right behind you, far side of the bar by the entrance."  
"Poor guy, all alone on the holidays," she said while obviously staring at him. "You should go talk to him."  
"I don't think it'll work out for me."  
"Well, we're in public so I don't think he'll kill you at least."  
"With him, I wouldn't be too sure of it."  
"Order him another drink instead."  
"He's drinking my paycheck in that one glass," Armie said while finishing his wine.  
"Get him wine instead, same one we're drinking. And when he gets it you guys can toast from across the bar."  
"That's a horrible idea, Carla."  
"I'm a woman, Armie. I'm the one that gets pursued so I don't know what else to tell you."  
"Oh fuck I forgot to tell you! He called me Armand today."  
"He hates you," she said chuckling.  
"The way he said it too, it was like a snake sinking its fangs into my throat."  
"Cancel the wine, cancel everything. It's off the table for you big boy."  
"I can get him. It'll just take a little more work than I'm used to but look at me, I'm Armie. I don't get turned down."  
"You should use that exact line on him."  
"Should I go over and talk to him?"  
"Give it a shot."

Armie ordered a shot of tequila to calm his nerves. The alcohol was harsh and grating going down his throat but he was approaching Timothee in a new environment and needed to relax his nerves. He delicately placed himself in the stool next to Timothee, goosebumps all over his body and palms sweaty. It was an awkward moment as the two just sat there in silence and not even looking at each other. Timothee was content being on his own, it didn't bother him and that's how he preferred to be. Armie was practically shaking. He ordered two shots this time. He grabbed his and slid one over to Timothee while turning to face him.

Timothee's look of displeasure sent Armie spiraling. He hadn't even reached for the shot in front of him and had Armie sitting there looking like a fool. 

"Come on, let's toast to you hitting a new milestone, buddy!" Armie said with too much enthusiasm.  
"Don't call me buddy," Timothee replied blankly. "My name is Timothee."  
"My name is Armie."  
"Nice to meet you, Armand," he returned with the same venom from earlier. Armie winced hearing it once more but decided not to fight it.  
"Do you come to this bar often?" Armie asked, desperate for a conversation.  
"Not anymore." Ouch, another blow to his pride. Armie knew exactly what his response meant and decided to shift gears.  
"I was talking with your dad the other day, he said he's going out to Italy for the holidays. Are you going with him?"  
"No."  
"Well," Armie's voice was gruff. "Don't hole yourself up somewhere alone. Maybe we can-"  
"Don't use my grief as a means to an end."

The bluntness of Timothee's words rang through his head as if it was the only phrase he's heard in all his life. Armie was going to use Timothee's grief as a possible in, but only because that's all he had to go on. He knew virtually nothing else about him so to be disarmed with such ferocious brevity left him floundering. Timothee pulled the rug out from underneath him before he could even get a foot down. He thought of cutting his losses and running back to Carla but he knew if he gave up now then he would have absolutely no chance of ever getting Timothee into his bed. This boy was going to be hard work regardless so he might as well just tough it out.

He ordered his third glass of wine and the two just sat there in silence. Armie found himself staring at Timothee's right hand, clasped around his glass of scotch that was older than him. He wondered how that grip would feel on his dick. He turned to face Timothee who was already staring directly at him. A set of emerald eyes that could set the world ablaze, they sent chills down Armie's back to his feet. He looked like someone pulled out of a 1950s movie, everything about Timothee from his hair down to his shoes was meticulously styled and clean. By no means was Armie a slouch but Timothee was levels ahead. They stared at each other until Armie broke and flashed his million dollar smile. Timothee took another swig of his drink and turned forward.

"I won," Timothee said in a tone slightly warmer than usual.  
"I didn't know there was a contest," Armie said as the butterflies fluttered in his gut.   
"There's a lot you don't know."  
"Well, if it suits you," Armie slid his phone in front of Timothee. "I'd love to know more."

Timothee slid the phone on the floor and finished his drink. He placed two crisp hundred dollar bills on the check in front of him and made his way to the exit, leaving Armie alone at the bar. Mouth agape and totally unaware of what his next step should be. Carla quickly made her way over so her friend wouldn't look too stupid for too long.

"I watched the entire thing," she said with pity. "It was scarier than NatGeo."  
"I had no idea what to do, I don't know how to talk to him."  
"Just give up. I don't think he's into you."  
"Yea but-"  
"Swear to god if you say he grinned at you I'm going to turn this bar upside down."  
"I've never wanted to fuck someone so bad. I want to break him in half. I want to make him beg."  
"So far you're the one doing the begging."  
"I feel like a loser."  
"Let's get out of here, it's getting late anyway. I closed out our bill already."  
"Sounds good."  
"Excuse me, sir," the bartender interrupted as Armie and Carla were putting on their coats before leaving. "The gentleman from earlier left this note for you."  
"That little shit," Armie said while reading the note.  
"What is it?" Carla asked.  
"His number," he responded.  
"So he put you through all that knowing he was going to give you his number anyway?"  
"That he did," Armie couldn't get the smile off his face. "Crafty."


	3. Loft

Timothee always hated going back home. He lived in a high rise loft, cut off from the rest of the world and looking down upon them like ants. The once admired industrial stylings were now cold and unapproachable, everything was too pristine and untouched, this place made him sick to his stomach. His dad set him up with this loft when he was 18 and he's been here ever since, all on his own. Due to work, as he often claimed to himself, he didn't have many friends. He had none actually. The last time he received a phone call was three weeks ago and it was from his dad briefing him on a meeting he skipped out on. His last text message was a random number telling him his sushi delivery was in the building, and that was last month. 

He poured himself a glass of scotch, not as fancy as the one he had in the bar, and sat in a chair overlooking the city skyline. The snow frosted everything as far as the eye could see. It was an industrial winter wonderland, he could barely smell the smog in the air. He reached for his phone again, hoping to see if Armie had finally contacted him but there was still nothing. He made a quick phone call to the front desk to make sure he had service, even though the phone showed full bars, they answered it promptly and he immediately hung up. Tossing the phone against the window as he took his first sip. 

Another sip past his lips, he held the glass there until the scotch was gone. He retreated to his couch and flipped on the television, maybe a cartoon or some random movie would be a nice distraction for him. Flying through the channels until he settled on Dr. Who. No one has made Timothee smile as much as David Tennant has. Blink was on, that's his favorite episode. 

His mind was blank and completely absorbed by the fantasy on the television across from him. The faint vibrations of his phone only zapping into his mind when he saw the screen flashing. He ran over to it with fury but composed himself before answering the call.

"Hello," he said in his usual blank tone.  
"You left me your number," Armie replied in a put on baritone.  
"Who is this?"  
"Armand."  
"That was fast."  
"Would you rather I have kept you waiting?"  
"No."  
"My offer from earlier still stands, Timmy." Armie knew exactly what he was doing by calling him that. 

Timothee thought for a second about sidestepping that but he wanted the ball to remain in his court so he nonchalantly ended the call. The only place he knew how to operate in was the driver's seat, but unfortunately for Timothee, Armie was the same way. Both of them were far too stubborn and staunch in their beliefs to budge. Timothee required people to prove their worthiness to an unreachable point only so he could toss them aside and feel he saw their failure coming from a mile away. Armie thought the world belonged to him and that people should be grateful for his presence. They could both use a bit of humbling.

His phone rang again, it was the same number. He answered it but did not speak.

"Timothee," Armie's deep voice rustled him more than he knew.  
"Yes, Armand?"  
"I'm in your building. Are you going to take me up on my offer or should I go?"  
"Top floor."  
"I'll be right up, Mr. Rockefeller."

Timothee used his time to slip into something slightly more alluring, but his idea of more alluring was a wife beater and a pair of gray shorts that did a magnificent job of showing off his butt. It wasn't the biggest but those two round mounds damn sure did look good and have been known to turn a few heads, Armie's included. He put his scotch away but kept Dr. Who going, thinking it would provide him with a sense of levity. Armie's knock on the door momentarily froze him.

"Honey! I'm home!" Armie proclaimed on the opposite side of the towering oak door.

No response. Timothee opened the door and stepped to the side allowing him to enter. He stood with pride as he watched Armie admire his loft, the floor to ceiling windows were a marvel and he greatly appreciated the industrial feel of it all. The minimalism of everything particularly struck a cord, get rid of a few things and no one would have a clue someone actually lived there. 

"This is a really nice place you have here."  
"Thank you."  
"Oh, so you can say it," Armie replied with a wink. Timothee's expression remained blank.   
"Would you like anything to drink?" he asked.  
"I'll have some wine."  
"Anything in particular?"  
"Whatever is most expensive," Armie said in a daring tone.  
"Ok."  
"Your excitement is off the charts!"

Timothee returned from wine cellar tucked behind his kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He quickly uncorked it and poured for him and Armie. As he was walking over to hand Armie a glass he noticed his hand was shaking so he put the glass down on the counter, deciding Armie could just fetch it for himself. He looked up to see Armie was looking at his hands too, he saw them shaking.

He reached back for his own glass and took a seat at the counter almost tucked back into the kitchen, just barely out of view. Armie took a seat at the opposite end.

"So... nice place," Armie said swirling his glass.  
"You said that already," Timothee replied.  
"Just trying to make conversation," he took a swig of the wine and turned to face Timothee. He was in a dark corner but those eyes were truly unmissable. Armie felt himself getting lost in them, falling deeper and deeper as the universe appeared to zip past him and all that remained were those emerald eyes.   
"Why are you always staring at me?" Timothee asked, breaking his thoughts into fragments.  
"You're beautiful," Armie said in a hushed tone. Those weren't the exact words he would have chosen as a response but that's what fell out of his mouth. And that's exactly what he meant.   
"Thank you," Timothee's cheeks flushed and pushed himself further into the dark corner to hide it.  
"Would it kill you to come closer?"

No response. Timothee did want to be closer but he was going to make Armie work, just how he made everyone else work. Armie left his seat and slowly trudged his way over to Timothee in the corner. 

"Can we sit on the couch? I like Dr. Who, too," he said while extending his hand out.  
"Fine," Timothee may have agreed but he wasn't going to be lead to his own couch. He walked smoothly past Armie partly to assert his imaginative dominance as well as show off the buns. 

He gently maneuvered himself onto the couch, up against the corner of it, of course. Armie plopped down on the opposite end, legs and arms spread wide open as if he was awaiting his own company. Out of the corner of his eyes, Timothee gawked at thick thighs and practically got moist at the little peek of hair on Armie's stomach, he loved guys with body hair. His eyes kept traveling upward until they met Armie's and he felt his stomach turn into a pit. This time it was him who got caught staring. Armie turned back to the television with the most obnoxious shit-eating grin on his face. Timothee rolled his eyes in disgust. 

The silence of the room roared on as these two oafs made no effort in speaking with each other. All they did was huff and puff, unwilling to be the one to break the ice. Timothee walked over by the window to grab his phone. He stood there for a little bit, he loved the snow outside. It reminded him of happier times with his family, his mom in particular. Before his train of thought could get too far he felt a thud against the back of his head. He looked down at the floor and saw a peach between his feet that wasn't there before. 

"Did you just throw a fucking fruit at me?" He was enraged, storming back to the couch and standing directly in front of Armie.  
"I did," Armie replied standing up firmly in his spot. He towered above Timothee.  
"Well," Timothee's tone was noticeably softer than before. "Don't do it again." Timothee tried to push him back into his seat but Armie didn't budge.  
"What are you going to do about it?" Armie pushed forward.  
"Just don't," Timothee pushed again, only this time Armie fell back onto that couch with more force than anticipated. "Don't let my size-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Armie pulled Timothee into his embrace and sandwiched him between the couch and his dominating frame. Timothee squirmed and cursed, he was pissed off but all Armie did was laugh and made sure he held him tightly in place. He wrapped his strong arms around Timothee's chest and pressed his crotch into his butt. Timothee was going red and setting a curse upon Armie's entire family but he didn't care. He found this sudden burst of emotion exciting, he just wanted to know that Timothee wasn't an entirely blank slate.

Armie planted a kiss on the back of his neck and hopped off the couch freeing the slender boy. Timothee leaped to his feet and slapped the smile clean off Armie's face.

"I did not say you could touch me!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking.  
"My god calm down. You invited me over and then didn't even talk to me I just wanted to make sure you were actually alive."  
"You touch me again and I-"  
"What? What's it going to be this time, Timothee? Are you going to break my kneecaps? Are you going to use my ribcage as a makeshift fruit basket? Go for it. If it means I get to touch you again, by all means, go for it."

Armie's tone was on the serious side but it melted away when he saw how disheveled Timothee looked, There was a look of terror and fright on Timothee's face that he didn't know was possible. Armie knew he went too far. Most guys would be hard as a rock from what Armie just did but he could tell Timothee, genuinely, was not for it. He fucked up.

"Okay, okay," he started. "I apologize. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, I tried something and it didn't work. That was my fuck up, I'm sorry." He extended his hand out, like always.  
"Apology accepted," and for the first time, Timothee took his hand. He held a tight grip and lead Armie back to the couch where they, once again, sat on opposite ends. 

Armie sat flat-footed running that scenario over and over in his brain and how he played the situation so horribly. He thought his tricks could work on Timothee because they've worked on every other guy he's been with but what he didn't account for was the supreme amount of resentment Timothee held onto. What was also different, this time is that he really felt like shit for making Timothee uncomfortable. Any other guy he would just say fuck it and leave but now he felt like he couldn't leave without making things better.

"I'm really sorry, Timothee."   
"I said it's okay."  
"I know. I just don't want you to think that's how I am."  
"But that is how you are. If you weren't like that then you wouldn't have done it," Timothee's tone was back to the venom he was familiar with.  
"I just wanted to get something out of you."  
"What exactly did you want to get out of me?" There it was. The biting question that they both knew the answer to. Armie's gaze fell to the floor, he was finally given a shot and he blew it, royally. He couldn't think of any response to Timothee's question without making things worse. "I'd like for you to leave now," Timothee said while making his way to the door.  
"I understand." Armie didn't even have the heart to look at him. 

His feet dragged along, it felt like he had boulders underneath him getting heavier with each step. Timothee was already standing by the door, wide open and ready for Armie to go. Both of them took a jump into the water and it played out awfully. Armie got too far too excited and Timothee still refused to leave the driver's seat. Two very misunderstood people playing a sick game with no rule book. 

As the door slammed behind him Armie fell back onto it and slumped to the floor. Dropping his hands into his face and wondering just how the hell he fucked up this golden opportunity so bad.

Timothee couldn't have been any angrier as he sat on the cold concrete floor, his back to the door. He extended himself, yet again, and felt personally disrespected by Armie's actions. He ran the situation over and over in his head but it never felt right. The action by itself was fine but then he thinks of the emotions that Armie possessed with it and it disgusted him. 

"They're all the same," he whispered to himself.


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothee and Armie make some steps in getting their shit together. Things get pretty dark here and there is a very visual death in the beginning but things are starting to look up for our boys!

"It didn't work, dad."  
"You barely gave him a chance," his dad's voice was harsh.  
"But," Timothee's tone was barely above a whisper. "I invited him over."  
"And sat there. You didn't even try to talk to him or open up."  
"I don't like talking," Timothee was starting to get annoyed.  
"I know you hate the world, son. That's your whole shtick and, trust me, the world gets it and deserves it but you can't keep running back when things don't go your ridiculous way," his dad always had a sharp way of seeing through Timothee's nonsense. "So what he grabbed you and tried to rough you up a bit! You need someone that can ground you, your head is always somewhere else, and you're so uptight."  
"Stop."  
"Sorry, son. What are you going to do now?"  
"Nothing."  
"Look, Timothee," his dad let out a deep sigh. "I know Armie, I know he's good but sometimes you just have to let people in. You have to let them fuck up, they don't know any better. Armie doesn't know how to handle you but he's willing to learn."  
"He just wants to have sex," Timothee replied bluntly.  
"You kids just wanting to fuck anything. Whatever happened to love?"  
"Yeah, dad, whatever happened to it?" he replied in a challenging tone.

Timothee spent the rest of the night in the apartment alone, Dr. Who playing in the background. All he thought of was Armie's arms wrapped around him and how good it felt to be touched by someone. He remembered his body sinking deeper into the couch as Armie grinded on top of him, his dick just right above his ass. If he had been a less venomous man he would have certainly let Armie fuck however, he couldn't or rather, he wouldn't. 

Sex was never just sex to Timothee. Sex, for him, meant there was an already solid and deep bond and sex was the physical representation of that bond. He'd only been with one guy before, it was right before he turned 18 during his freshmen studies. It took them 4 months to have sex and that was the last time he heard from that guy. Crushed beyond belief he swore off humanity even harder than before. It was a cut so deep that Timothee spent years planting evidence to get that guy on the enemy of state list and once his goal was finally accomplished, Timothee made sure that no one else had the authority to kill. 

Timothee has never needed more than a single bullet to take out his targets but for him, this kill was personal, he wanted blood. He watched the guy fall asleep next to a woman, their child in a room down the hall sleeping with a night light. He crept into the house through the sliding doors downstairs and quickly made his way up to the room. The wife wasn't a target, she had nothing to worry about so Timothee allowed her to continue sleeping. He pressed his knife to the guy's throat and planted a soft kiss on his lips. 

"I loved you," he whispered as the guy's eyes crept open.

Before he could make a sound he was slashed open from his throat down to his groin, blood and organs spilling from the bed to the floor. Timothee closed the door behind him and spent the rest of the night watching the wife. Once the sun rose and she wailed all throughout the house he packed up his things and left. He falsely thought that kill would make him feel better. 

 

"So, still nothing on the Timothee front?" Carla asked.  
"Haven't heard or seen him," Armie replied. They were out for a run in the park, the holiday snow all melted and drained away.  
"What's it been? Two months now?"  
"Yes."  
"He hasn't shown up to any work meetings either?"  
"Negative."  
"Oh well, move on," she didn't have a care in the world for Timothee's attitude.  
"I tried. That same night I saw back during the break I went out and fucked a guy."  
"And let me guess, you were wishing it was Timothee," she said with pity. "I don't know how you two feel about each other but I do know you talk about him in a way you don't talk about men. You always told me he was just a challenge to you but I mean, come on."  
"What?"  
"He's more than just a challenge, Armie. He's an entirely new way of life for you. You're borderline obsessed!"  
"The hell I am!" He replied in short breaths.  
"All I know is, you've spent a whole year talking about him and when he finally gave you a chance, that you blew by the way, your life spiraled out of control so bad that I had to come get your drunk ass from this very park in the middle of the night."  
"So I like to have a drink big whoop."  
"You went on a week-long bender."  
"It was maybe four days max."  
"And you cried," she laughed.  
"I did no such thing!"  
"That's because you were wasted off your ass. I remember that week, Armie."  
"I just want a do-over."  
"Go to his place, today."  
"He'll fucking kill me."  
"That is a possibility, yes, but what if he doesn't?"

After his run, Armie rushed home and ran over his plan for the night. He would call Timothee, take him out on a cute date to some fancy restaurant, and that's it. No touching, no sex. They'll just get to know each other and whatever happens, happens. At best he was hoping to get a kiss goodnight. Now, that all sounds great in theory but the tricky part is getting Timothee to even speak to him. 

"Please pick up, please pick up," Armie repeated to himself as he dialed Timothee's number. He knew it by heart. "Don't hang up, just give me a second. Don't hang up, just give me a second."  
"What?" Timothee answered with a rasp.  
"Hey, um, I'm happy you picked up," Armie was silently fist pumping the air in joy.  
"What the fuck do you want?"  
"I just, you know, I was around your building today and, um, you know, I was, I was, I thought of you and-"  
"Get to the point," Timothee cut him off.  
"I would really, really like to take you out to like a restaurant or whatever. If, if you wanted to of course," he sounded like a kid asking for an extra cookie after dinner. "I haven't seen you or heard from you in so long and I just wanted to make sure there's no bad blood."

Timothee gazed out of the window, wine in hand, he wanted to say no but he had his dad's words ringing in his ears all day.

"You still there?" Armie asked.  
"I am."  
"So would you be... up for it?"

No response.

"If not, I mean it's okay, I just wanted to be okay," Armie's nervousness tickled Timothee. "I want to make sure you're okay."  
"I am okay," Timothee started, a lie of course. "Are you okay?"  
"Umm, not really."  
"Oh."  
"Well," Armie crashed down to his floor in embarrassment. "I'll let you get back to your activities."  
"Where did you want to take me?" Timothee asked, deciding he would give it another go.  
"There's a nice Japanese spot in your building I've been dying to try. Do you like Japanese food?"  
"I do."  
"Okay, okay, great!" The fist pumping was back.  
"Hurry up before I change my mind," Timothee replied and then hung up.

It only took an hour for Armie to clean himself up and don his best attire. He took out his finest suit for the night and carried extra mints in his front pocket. By the time he got to Timothee's building, he could barely contain himself. He stood in front of the restaurant desperately feeling he needed to vomit but all his fright and nerves relaxed into a calm when he saw Timothee strolling down the hallway to meet him. Timothee, too, pulled out his finest suit. The both of them looked like million dollar men.

"You look incredible," the hearts were practically falling out of Armie's eyes.  
"You too, Armand," he didn't smile but Armie found it now endearing when Timothee called him by his first name. 

As they approached their table Armie made sure to pull out Timothee's seat as a gentleman should. It was the first time he even saw Timothee actually smile, his face was glowing and those eyes, those deep emerald eyes looked so full of life and whimsy. Every time Armie looked at them he got lost, unaware of the world around him and only concerned about the beautiful boy in front of him. He knew Timothee was different, he knew what he wanted was different, and now he just has to not fuck it up.

"This place is really nice," Timothee said as he flipped through the menu in front of him.  
"It is, I'm happy you came."  
"I am too," Timothee blushed.  
"Are, are we okay?" Armie asked with fear.  
"We're okay," Timothee responded in an unusual warmth. "I will try as long as you try. Deal?"  
"Deal."


	5. Concrete Blocks

"Stop laughing at me!" Armie said with his mouth full of sushi.  
"I can't help myself," Timothee replied, his smile had yet to subside since he sat down.  
"Okay," Armie replied. "So I'm a little bad with chopsticks, who cares?"  
"A little?" Timothee laughed. "You threw them on the floor and you've been eating with your hands."  
"I have big hands, it's harder for me."  
"The lies you tell. It's okay, I'm not judging."  
"Hmmm," he replied with a knowing look. "Can I be sure of that?"  
"Oh no, I'm hardcore judging you, Armand."  
"Lord. Why do you call me that?"  
"It's your name."  
"That it is," he took Timothee's hand. This time he didn't recoil in fear, Armie noticed and held it just a little bit longer. He caressed his slender fingers until his hand slid back onto the table.  
"Were you going to say something?" Timothee asked innocently.  
"Slipped my mind."

They continued devouring roll after roll with gusto. Timothee, surprisingly, taking the lion's share. He was damn near putting Armie to shame. Both of them were weirdly relaxed and at peace with each other, bringing out abilities in the other they weren't aware existed. For Armie, it was seeing Timothee laugh and smile so much. For Timothee, it was seeing Armie being a goofball and seemingly uninterested in impressing anyone around him. A much-needed breath of fresh air. 

"What should we get for dessert?" Timothee asked while excitedly flipping through the menu. "How about fried ice cream?"  
"I... how do you still have room?" Armie asked, reclining back into his seat, hands over his stomach.  
"I have a crazy appetite."  
"Where does it go? I see nothing on you."  
"You know where it goes," he replied.

While he may have been all smiles and chuckles, Timothee certainly wasn't flirting. He had been making a conscious effort all night to be nothing more than friendly but not overly so. However, he was liking Armie far more than he had anticipated and his dad's words had yet to have left his brain.

"Calm down now, giggles," Armie stated.  
"What?"  
"Forget it. Anyway, if I have dessert I'm going to throw up so it's all you."  
"Nevermind, I didn't want to get it alone."  
"Alright, let's get out of here then."  
"Fine," Timothee replied a little sharper.

Armie looked at him knowing the fuse was lit. He was greatly enjoying his night and the idea that it could all come crashing down at the end saddened him.

"Hey," he reached for his hand again but Timothee pulled back. "We were having a good time, did I do something wrong? Is it the hand thing?"  
"No," Timothee sighed. "I'm just a bitch."  
"Well-"  
"Tread lightly, Armand."  
"I don't think you're a bitch."  
"Yes you do."  
"I mean, I did but not now."  
"I just really, really don't like people."  
"We're all rather terrible so I can't blame you."

Timothee sat quietly, wondering if now was an appropriate time to open up to Armie. He so badly wanted to tell him all his secrets, to list out his desires and wishes but whenever Timothee does that it's never worked out for him.

"I just want someone who'll make me feel better about the world," he stated softly without making eye contact.

Armie ran his words over in the back of his mind. They were beautiful and he loved them, even more, seeing that it came from a place of sincerity. He had no idea about just how deep Timothee was into the darkness but he felt thankful that he was even given an opportunity to see another side of him. But there was another thought in the back of Armie's mind, what if he fucks up this already beaten and battered boy even more? The idea of not being able to make Timothee feel better about the world didn't sit right within his spirit but Armie knew that it was too late at this point. He was already along for the ride. 

"Let's go back to my place," Timothee said as he was already out of his seat.  
"We have to pay for the food first you thief!"  
"I don't pay for anything when my father is the one who owns this entire building," he was out the door now.

The elevator ride up was quiet, Timothee lived on the top floor which took a little minute to get there from the restaurant which was only on the second floor. Armie stood off in one corner texting away on his phone, Timothee watched him the entire time with an attentive eye. He was moreso looking at his bulge in those tight suit pants, his balls looked very heavy Timothee thought to himself.

"Did you enjoy the view?" Armie whispered into his ear as they strolled off the elevator.

Timothee chose not to give him the satisfaction of a response. Armie kicked off his shoes at the door and made a move to the couch, flipping on the television to whatever random sports game that was on. Timothee shortly after, back in nothing but a pair of compression shorts. He went into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine for himself and Armie. Gently placing it on the table in front before settling onto the couch closer, but still not too close, to Armie.

"Wait a second," Armie said while slowly turning towards Timothee. "Did you just...?"  
"Shut up," he replied, already knowing what Armie was hinting at. It took him by surprise as well.  
"You're a sweetheart," Armie said while throwing his arm around Timothee and pulling him closer to his side of the couch.  
"Don't touch me!" Timothee yelled. "You oath," he laughed, he didn't even try to get out of Armie's embrace.  
"You're not going to slap me again are you?"  
"I'm sure I will in the future but for now we're okay," Timothee replied calmly.

Armie felt supremely uneasy about how relaxed Timothee was, this felt like an entirely different person. As if the one he knew had been lobotomized.

"Can I ask you a question?" Armie was beginning to bark up a dangerous tree.  
"Go for it."  
"Why was it such a big deal the last time I touched you?"  
"I don't know."

Armie sat dumbfounded. Timothee's response wasn't sarcastic or laden with an ulterior motive, he said it so matter-of-factly like he just has random unexplained outbursts that don't really mean much when they pass. 

"I was afraid of you, Armand. I still am."  
"What do you have to be afraid of? I'm not the one with 300 kills here."  
"I'd rather be physically dead than emotionally dead," Timothee replied. "All I do is watch people, I watch their happiness, I watch them grow together, I watch them fall in love, I watch them bring life into the world. And then there's me."  
"You could have all of that," Armie's voice wrapped around Timothee like the finest silk.  
"Easier said than done. Every time I reach out I just fail and it makes me even more upset and less open to trying. I feel like I'm in a race with the world but my feet are trapped inside concrete blocks. That's how I feel every single day. I hate it, I hate myself, I hate everything. I don't want to feel that way but I can't help it, it's just how I feel."  
"That's some heavy stuff. Do you-"  
"Don't worry about it," Timothee started. "I'm not putting that on you, that's not your job to fix. It's mine."

The television blared on, it was a marathon of The Twilight Zone, one of Armie's favorite shows. The sky outside was dark and the view from Timothee's apartment was nothing short of astounding. The hustle and bustle of the busy streets below, the boxes of light dotting up and now neighboring buildings, it was the quintessential cityscape that most people could only dream of seeing. 

Timothee had fallen asleep on Armie's lap, his glass of wine still completely full sitting on the floor. Armie ran his fingers through his soft hair and gazed out at the view.

"Don't fuck this up, don't fuck this up," he thought to himself as his own eyes begin to feel heavy.


	6. Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good things happen here. I am really, REALLY enjoying writing this story and this chapter itself might be my favorite thing I've ever written thus far. It's a little shorter but I got a little inspiration today. I hope y'all are enjoying this. It's very unusual for me to like my writing (I hate almost everything I do) but this feels totally different :)

Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, Armie had more than enough strength to pick Timothee up and carried him to the bedroom without making him lose a wink of sleep. The floor to ceiling windows carried over here as well but the industrial components of the rest of the apartment were replaced with well worn wooden beams and flooring, dominated by a massive bed atop a wooden platform with the thickest and most comforting sheets on top. Above the headboard was a small framed photo of Timothee and his parents. He's always had that beaming smile. 

As Armie placed Timothee down into the bed his eyes couldn't help but wander over his slender body, going across his shoulder blade was a small date. He wondered what it was. His eyes traveled farther south until the roamed freely across Timothee's plump butt, two perfectly round cheeks that accentuated his body very nicely. He was thin but make no mistake about it, he was very well defined. Armie placed a small kiss in between his shoulders and pulled the heavy sheets over his body, leaving only that beautiful face exposed. Beaten up and used books decorated the floating shelves of the room, Armie didn't recognize any of the names. 

He took one more admiring of the view outside. It bordered on being transcendent and he wondered how Timothee felt about having such a tremendous view at his disposal. As he turned back he was greeted by those emerald eyes that always had the power to stop him dead in his tracks. They practically took his breath away. These two simply loved to stare at each other.

"Did I wake you?" he whispered.  
"You did when you picked me up," Timothee replied.  
"Why didn't you say anything?"  
"Maybe I wanted you to carry me off to bed."  
"Hm," Armie chuckled. "Well, now that you're actually in bed I better get going."  
"Where are you going?" Timothee shot upright.  
"To my home?"  
"Why can't you stay here?"  
"I don't think I should."  
"I disagree."  
"Oh? What are you going to do if I leave?" Armie asked mockingly.  
"Ask the first guy who did that to me," Timothee replied under his breath.

Armie turned, not quite catching the comment but also not wanting to push it further. Every moment with Timothee felt like dancing on a tight rope and he was never sure if he was making progress or not.

"I would like to stay," he stated. "But I have urges. And the last thing I want is for you to freak out on me."  
"I freak out a lot," Timothee replied. "You just have to try your luck."  
"And that's something you think is fine?"  
"No, I know it's ridiculous but I'm trying to be honest with you."  
"I appreciate that Tim, I really do."  
"But...," Timothee interrupted.  
"It's one thing to admit your faults and it's another thing to actively work on them."

Timothee reclined back in bed and tucked the covers under his head, he wasn't exactly expecting Armie to be the one to deliver that gut punch. He wanted to explode so very badly, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs and kick and punch but he knew Armie was right on the money. It was very big of Timothee to admit his shortcomings but they weren't an excuse to treat people like shit. 

"Armie," Timothee called from under the sheets. His voice was sweeter than honey.  
"Yes, beautiful?" Armie had completely melted from Timothee choosing not to be so formal in how he called him anymore.  
"Would you like to spend the night with me?"  
"I'd be honored," he replied, already stripped down to his briefs.

Gently, he pulled the covers back until only that enchanting face of Timothee's was framed. A face that seemed to be chiseled out of a marble that no longer existed on the planet. So spectacularly smooth and angled yet inviting and now, full of warmth. Armie ran his thumb over those delectably soft, pink lips which yearned back for him in equal measure. 

"Can I kiss you?" his husky voice dropped into Timothee's ears.  
"Go for it," he replied.

Armie took his face into his mighty hands and lifted him gingerly until they were eye to eye. As much as Armie constantly melted in Timothee's emeralds it was the latter who too drifted away in the sea of blue that was Armie's eyes. They were like untouched Arctic water, just now being introduced to the sunlight. A radiant, shimmering blue in its purest form. He ran his hands through Armie's and pulled him in closer, slower until the only thing between them was the air evacuating through both of their lips.

Overcome with lust, Armie finally reached across pressing his lips against Timothee. A volcanic gurgle erupting through his veins, he felt limp and wonderfully out of his body. Timothee's hands trembled as he fell backward onto the bed with Armie maneuvering himself on top, the seal of their lips only breaking to allow their tongues to entwine, neither trying to assert dominance over the other but both coming together in a harmony so perfect that Mozart would feel rather diminutive in comparison. 

Their eyes met again and it was a flood of euphoria that coursed through their veins, a small gasp leaving Armie's mouth as Timothee sucked on just his tongue. No one had ever done that to Armie before. His eyes rolled back and his hands took a mighty grip of the sheets under him as his sensations were so overwhelmed that he didn't even notice the wet spot forming in his briefs until he found Timothee's hands poking at it.

"I'm sorry," Armie said. Barely able to catch his breath.  
"Don't be," Timothee comforted. "I did too," he said, tossing the sheet from over his legs.

The laughs filled the air until they fell asleep, this time for real and this time, without any of the panic that dreaded them earlier. Timothee's head tenderly tucked between the embrace of Armie.


	7. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to learn a bit more about Timothee here as he takes the stage. I found this particular chapter to be very therapeutic for me. Also I guess I kinda wanna preface this by saying this work, for me, is really about me channeling some of my own emotions and thoughts through two people who I greatly adore and I'm sorry if y'all wanted something a little different. I will certainly try to give the people what they want but idk, the ONLY thing I know about this story is how I'm going to end it and everything before that is up for the universe to decide

Armie sat across the kitchen counter from Timothee, clearly uncomfortable with the silence between them. They so lovingly fell asleep cradling each other and now it was like two strangers with an entire ocean between them with only one trying to reach out. Timothee seemed to whisp around the kitchen as if he was the only person in the apartment. When he finally took a seat, Armie plucked a grape at him, his way of breaking the ice. He didn't get a reaction of any kind, not even a flinch. Timothee was choosing not to acknowledge him, he felt.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.  
"No," Timothee replied, his eyes fixed on the views beyond the windows.   
"I thought after last night we were good."  
"We are."  
"Then why are you ignoring me?"  
"Ignoring you?" Timothee rolled his eyes enough to study every crook of his brain. "I'm not even thinking about you."  
"The fuck does that mean?" Armie questioned, his tone approaching fragile territory.  
"I don't mean it in a bad way," Timothee responded softly. "You're just not a concern at this moment."

Those words sat stewing in Armie's brain for what felt like an eternity. The eerie comfortability and ease in which they flowed is what hurt him the most. He felt that he had already extended a ridiculous olive branch to Timothee and now he was the one being tossed to the side. A feeling Armie's never quite experienced seeing as how he's always been the guy. The guy that people would fall over themselves to please. The guy that people would toss all their good judgment in the garbage for. The guy that people would always give one more chance. He had the charm, the wit and, of course, the dashing good looks. 

For Armie, it was never more than a simple snap of the finger and he'd have a flock of guys at his feet. Even on a state level, he was granted far more leniency and special privileges than most just because everyone wanted to have a night in bed with him. Rumors constantly swirled around cubicles, pictures were floated too but he somehow managed to keep an air of mystery around him that practically drove people into a panic. He never had anyone so much as even attempt to trip him up. 

Coming into this, he expected far less of a challenge. It had been a little over two months since he first got Timothee to talk to him and all he's gotten so far is a kiss. A kiss that he relished in so deeply that he ejaculated just from that one act. It was all dawning on him that Timothee was running total circles around him.

"Why are you so mean?" Armie asked. He asked in a mumble, it was a question that wasn't intended to be said aloud but it was too late for it to be pulled back. Timothee moved back in place on the opposite side of the counter like he was waiting for the referee to ring a bell.  
"Why am I so mean?" Timothee repeated back in a jagged timbre.  
"I just think you could lighten up a little bit, is all." Armie knew he was but a few steps away from drowning but there was a potential with Timothee that he thought was worth any brush with death. 

Timothee slid down onto the stool below him, his head propped up by his hands on the cold counter. His trademark emerald eyes glowing with a gray undertone, they matched the sky outside. "I could lighten up, you're right," he started. "I could just let everything that's happened to me die in the past and just stop responding to situations the way I do. I could become an entirely new person, someone more demure, someone with manners, someone who talks and laughs and goes out on the town!" His posture slumped forward, he dipped down and laid his face against the concrete countertops. "I would love to do all of that but I can't. I know I should do all of that but I can't," there was a darkness in his voice that far exceeded his years. "Everyday I wake up and I know who I am and unfortunately there is no cure for that." 

He slinkied back off the stool and made his way to the fireplace on the far end of the apartment. "I don't like a single thing about myself," he continued to flow seamlessly. "Everyone assumes it's so easy to fix things but what if it's just too late? What if I'm beyond the point of being fixed? I've tried to fake it, I thought that if I fake it long enough I'll believe it's real. But what if I fake it long enough that I forget what's even real?" He flicked the switch to turn on the fire in front of him. It was just a display, however, a fake fire. "Armie," his voiced called deeply. "I don't expect you to stick around," he looked at Armie like it was okay for him to leave. "No one ever does."

Timothee slid his fingers down the glass display in front of him solemnly. "I guess if I could go back and try things different it would be when my mom died. She was a lovely woman, always so nice and comforting. She'd take me out to shops and restaurants with her, she taught me how to sew, she taught me how to swim too. I was such a momma's boy," his tone was gritty. "She always told me to never let this world suck me in. She thought I could be somebody," he paused. He took a few deep breaths and laid on the floor, still facing the fireplace. "She only wanted one thing from me and I let her down." 

It took Armie every ounce of energy he had to not run over to that fireplace and scoop Timothee into his arms and tell him everything would be okay. He knew that was the absolute worst thing to do and would completely ruin any goodwill between the two of them. It was then he knew his feelings for Timothee were genuine, he didn't want to conquer the biggest challenge on earth anymore, he just wanted to be there for him. All he wanted to do was provide light for someone who's been swinging in the dark for virtually his whole life. 

Timothee jumped back to his feet and turned to face Armie who burned a bright red in a mix of fear and excitement. He sauntered over slowly until he gently placed himself on Armie's lap and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. 

"Thank you for giving me a chance," Armie croaked, slightly overwhelmed with Timothee's openness.  
"Thank you for listening," his soft voice replied. "I can't promise that I'll be anything more than what I currently am but you make me want to try."  
"Has anyone ever made you feel that way before?"  
"You're the first."

Timothee stumbled a little bit in Armie's lap, he felt a pressure had been lifted and maybe his days would stop blending into each other so much that they were indistinguishable. They shared a nervous laugh Armie's first reaction was to grab Timothee's ass to hold him in place. Except, his hands remained solidly in place. Timothee gave him a kiss between his pecs and silently took in the aroma, to him it was mystifying. 

"Have you been with anyone yet?" Timothee asked.  
"I did meet someone that first night," Armie replied hesitantly.

Timothee's eyes shot up abruptly. Staring into every chamber of Armie's mind. His little hands held a tight grip on Armie's wrists until they were positioned behind the taller man, uncomfortably so.

"Just messing with you," Timothee said with a light giggle.   
"I almost fucking pissed myself, Jesus," Armie shot back.  
"I have no right to be mad at you for that, it's whatever."  
"But after that, no one else."  
"Who was the guy anyway?"  
"Some guy I met at a bar. We fucked in his car, didn't even get his name or number and I don't think I'd be able to identify him out of a lineup, really."  
"So why did you fuck him?"  
"I was very confused by you that night. And what I felt back then isn't exactly what I feel now."  
"Oh?" Timothee's head cocked back in amusement. "What did you feel back then?"  
"Don't do this to me, Timothee," Armie started.  
"I won't get mad," he said smiling.  
"I've wanted to fuck you since the first day I saw you," Armie said harshly into Timothee's ear with a fist full of his hair. "Everyone swears you're the most amazing thing on Earth and I thought you were a cold, try hard bitch and I wanted to fuck that out of you."

Timothee was melting on the inside but he wasn't going to let Armie know he was enjoying this. He'd long thought of him sexually as well but that was just on boring nights when all he had was his dick and his hands. 

"That day in the office where you finally acknowledged me as a person, man," Armie said in deep breaths. "Your ass in those tight pants, my god. I wouldn't stop even if you begged for mercy."  
"Well," Timothee replied in an even breathier tone in Armie's ear. "Not on your best day could you make me beg for anything. If a little kiss could set you off just imagine what this ass could do to you," he placed Armie's hands back on his butt and scooted up a little more on his lap. "And even then, I know I can exceed anything your brain can think of."  
"I'd break you in half, Tim."

A shudder ran down Timothee's back and he knew Armie had won this round. He was willing to let him have it, though. He liked when people thought they had the advantage over him.


	8. Catch Me

He stood frozen in place. The silence of the woods and his overall serenity had been greatly disturbed. Armie just took out his lone target for the week, a man that was off the grid and trying to organize an underground resort. It was an easy kill for Armie and as he was making the trek back to his car he heard footsteps rapidly approaching him but each time he turned around there wasn't any other sign of life.

"I must be imagining shit," he mumbled to keep himself sane.

Then it struck again. His gun was ripped off his back and launched at least 50 feet in front of him. The beads of sweat formed immediately as he stared at the gun ahead of him, his hands shaking wildly and his mouth losing all moisture. He turned up to the sky and did a full 360-degree turn but still couldn't find any evidence that anyone was out here with him. But he knew better than to assume he was alone, he knew there had to be someone out here that was just too smart for him to pinpoint. 

Armie took a single step and heard another foot trample the leaves behind him in unison. He took one more step and it was repeated. An instant turn of his head back but he saw nothing.

"Who's out there?!" He shouted.

He turned forward to his path and almost wet his pants when Timothee was standing right in front of him. The little shit hadn't even made a sound. He crept up on Armie with sheer perfection and if he had been an enemy then Armie would have been in grave danger. The worst part about it was Timothee's smile, he took too much joy in fucking with people. 

"You're a fucking demon!" Armie screamed at him, not as mad as he'd like to be.  
"I've been called worse," Timothee replied, extending out a hand in solidarity.  
"How... how did you get here?"  
"I opened your file."  
"You know that's illegal right?" Armie asked while popping open his water bottle.  
"You know I don't give a fuck right?" Timothee replied snatching the bottle out of his hands.

Timothee took a mighty gulp of the ice cold water and Armie gave him a quizzical look, he was pretty flattered by the move. He reached back for his water bottle but ended up spinning in circles as Timothee danced around him, too quick to be caught. Growing ever more thirsty and tired of this game he pushed Timothee up against the tree with a mighty force and yanked the bottle out of his lean fingers. He kept his arm pressed against Timothee's chest as he gulped down the last bits of water. 

"Sneaking up on people like that," Armie rolled his eyes. "I could have killed you."

Timothee turned red and guffawed at the top of his lungs. Completely unphased by Armie's empty threat.

"I was here before you got here, Armie. I could have taken out you and your target and no one would have a single clue."  
"Bullshit."  
"I'm the best member of the squad for a reason, sweetie."  
"That's nice, I would still end your ass, honey."  
"If you can catch me first, deary."

Timothee slipped out of Armie's grip and the forest went silent again as he disappeared out of sight. Armie spun himself madly, frantically trying to find just where he poofed to. He knew this was Timothee's game and he was up to play it but the annoyance was starting to set in, at this point he just wanted to head home and relax. Preferably with Timothee.

"Behind you!" He heard Timothee's soft voice creep in from behind but by the time he turned the boy was gone.  
"I don't want to play this ridiculous game anymore," Armie called out into the nothingness.  
"You're going to have to make me stop then!" His voice thundered back from all directions.

Armie shivered in fear, it was almost otherworldly how Timothee's voice sounded in these woods. Booming and soft, sensual and terrifying, he hated and loved everything about this. But for him the game was over, he picked up his gun and made a steady walk down the path back to his car. As he walked he was pelted with pine cones and small pebbles, he knew it was Timothee but he would give him the satisfaction of continuing this foolishness. 

A small hand grazed his shoulder and he knew not to waste his moment. He grabbed Timothee's delicate hand and swung him into the nearest tree with enough power to shake the branches above. Timothee let out a chuckle in enjoyment.

"Okay, you caught me."  
"It's taken too damn long for that," Armie replied.  
"What are you going to do to me, sir?" The flirty innocence dancing on each word.  
"Ooh," Armie was too intrigued. "You call me sir now?"  
"Should I not?"  
"Oh you will, I like it."  
"Then answer my question," Timothee replied while pulling Armie closer to him against that tree.  
"I'd rather show you than tell you, don't want to ruin the surprise," Armie groaned in his ear.

Timothee's arms were tossed around Armie's neck while Armie pushed their bodies closer together. Timothee stuck between the hefty body in front of him and the mighty tree behind him. Armie's soft lips traveled down from Timothee's ear to his neck, his warm breath leaving an invisible trail along the way. He placed them down softly and parted them slowly until his tongue finally made contact. He gazed up at Timothee to know he was good and the boy gave him the okay with a head nod.

He cradled Timothee in his arms and then Armie ran his tongue back from his neck to Timothee's pink lips. The two made contact and this kiss was just as electric as their first one. Their tongues melding together in total harmony, this was apparently the one area where the two were mutual companions and not trying to one-up each other.

"You have very soft lips," Armie told him.  
"Yea," Timothee smiled. "I do."  
"Kiss me again," Armie stated.  
"Catch me first."

Timothee slipped out his grip seamlessly and sauntered back down the path as Armie crouched toward him. Animalistic blood flowing through his veins. He took a mad lunge forward but got nothing but a face full of leaves as Timothee jumped out his way. Quickly getting up and brushing himself off he snarled at the boy and reached for him wildly, missing every time. Timothee giggling to himself, way too amused for his own good. His amusement was his downfall as he was laughing too hard to get away once Armie finally pinned him face down in the ground.

"There's no one around to hear you scream."  
"I can say the same to you," Timothee replied as he tried to squirm out from under Armie's legs.

Armie jumped to his feet and the two found each other's eyes. They so badly wanted to rip each other's clothes off but neither knew exactly what their situation was as they had failed to have the talk and both were in too deep to do something to fuck it all up. The intensity between burned like a quasar, ready to tear through the universe and destroy anything that dared to get too close. Timothee stepped toward Armie slowly, he planted a kiss on his cheek and held his hand, leading him back to the trail. They didn't say any words to each other for the rest of their trek but for them it was comforting. They were afraid that words would ruin the moment, words would sully their moment and for now, it was just about enjoying each other's presence. All that mattered now was the exchanged smiles, the continuous blushing, and how their hands never broke.


	9. A Fused Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships have their ups but they also have their downs.

It had been several days since Timothee last saw Armie and the disillusionment that weighed him down had fully set back in, a dark familiarity. There was nothing anything Armie explicitly did that set him back into this mood, this mood was just all he knew. 

He threw on his poncho and took a stroll through downtown, not bothered by the heavy downpour since he enjoyed how empty it made the sidewalks. Each step felt like a deeper descent into the darkness that, lately, only Armie was able to pull him from. On one hand, he felt like throwing himself into whatever relationship they had without a care in the world, he wanted to give himself over entirely to Armie but that nagging voice of fear and distrust was the loudest voice in his head. It always won.

"You'll never be good enough," a sad thought that constantly reformed itself and played from morning to night.

The constant flow of misanthropy came to an abrupt stop for Timothee when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a single band silver necklace, only adorned with an emerald and sapphire stone in the middle. The two colors blended together in a perfect harmony that almost glowed into a never before seen color. The brilliance of the simple stone left him breathless, he pressed his face against the window and admired the beauty before him with no regard to anything that was happening outside of him. All that existed was him and the stone. 

Elsewhere, Armie found himself in the bar awaiting Carla. She always had the perfect ability to bring him down to earth whenever he was feeling a bit underwater. His glass of wine had sat still in front of him for the past 10 minutes, he just wanted to be with Timothee. That feeling of intense yearning made him uncomfortable, he's never felt this way about a guy before and wondered if things were moving too fast in spite of things not really moving much at all. He felt like they were burning out, they weren't good for each other and they would ruin each other to unimaginable heights. 

"You alright?" Carla's voice fell over him as she took the seat next to him.   
"I'm not," he replied, tapping the base of his wine glass.  
"Boy problems?"  
"I don't know what to do with him," Armie's voice adopted a solemn tone Carla wasn't a fan of.  
"Things going south?"  
"Things are going well, very well. It's exactly what I didn't want. I... I feel things for him but I don't think I'm ready. And I don't think I could live with myself if I hurt him even more than what he already is. That boy is a fucking disaster."  
"So are you," the swing of her long hair behind her shoulder really sold the moment. "He's a shell of a person and you're a parody of a person. The both of you could learn from each other, and it's about time you calmed the fuck down."  
"What does that even mean?"  
"You go through guy after guy with absolutely no regard as to how they feel, it's pretty disgusting honestly. And then you try to justify it by claiming it's just the culture of today but why do you have to contribute to that? Also, aren't you tired of going through all of that? Wouldn't you like some companionship? Wouldn't you like to be with someone who makes you feel things?" She was hitting him everywhere it counted without breaking a sweat.   
"Hmm," he took his first sip of wine, unable to combat anything she said.  
"I don't know much about that Timothee guy but he's the first guy you've ever had a full conversation about with me. Everyone else was just a passing mention of how they sucked you off or whatever."  
"I do like him. I just don't want to hurt him."  
"That's not it, you don't want him to hurt you."

Her words ran into Armie like a bullet train, it ended all the pretenses he had formed and now that she dropped it in front of him he knew he could no longer hide from it. Armie always knew in the back of his head that he couldn't hurt Timothee if he tried, he was willing to crawl over stones of fire in the Arctic if it meant he'd get to see those emerald eyes he's so deeply fallen for. What scared him the most was the idea of not being good enough, not being interesting enough, not being funny enough, not being charming enough, and just not being enough for Timothee. He was terrified of the idea of finally giving himself over only for it to be rejected. His years of cycling through different boys was nothing more than an elaborate plan for him to never face his fears. He got lucky that he wasn't the only person on the planet with that same idea.

Armie reached for his wine and almost felt his stomach drop into his ass when he saw Timothee at the opposite end of the bar. His slender frame drowning in an oversized poncho and his jet black hair falling over his face, the strands were still wet from the rain. The sight made him damn near melt from how adorable it was. 

"You look at him like you've known him all your life," Carla piped up.   
"How did I look?"  
"Like a fool."

In the middle of his scan of the bar Timothee's eyes locked with Armie and for a moment they were the only two in the room. They exchanged awkward smiles from across the bar. Both of their cheeks flushed red, too overcome with feelings neither of them understood.

It was against his judgment, it was something he'd never do but Armie made a quick walk over to Timothee, swept him into his arms and kissed him as if he had just come back home from war. He loved feeling Timothee's soft lips against him, they were always so smooth. 

"I-I was out today and I saw so-something that reminded me of you," Timothee's stutter around was too cute. His hands shook as he pulled the velvet box out of his bookbag.  
"This better not be a dead animal," Armie laughed.

It was the necklace Timothee had saw while he was out walking in the rain. The stunning stone of emerald and sapphire fused together outshined everything else in the dark bar. Armie's eyes widened in an unnatural mixture of shock, awe, and confusion. 

"I got it for you," a tender sincerity lined Timothee's words. Armie met his bright green eyes again and he knew it was genuine. He had somehow managed to burn right through this former block of ice. He took the necklace into his hand and studied it closer. He was fascinated by the color and recognized exactly why it would remind Timothee of him, he could clearly see the hues of green and blue and he knew what they represented. He sat the necklace back down into the box and closed the lid.

"I really appreciate it, Tim," he started. "It's nice."  
"Can I put it on you please?" Timothee replied, an uneasy warble to his voice.  
"It's a bit much," Armie slurred the last word as much as he could.  
"Do-do, maybe or would you like to take it home? You-you could give it to your dog, or I can take it back and turn the stone into an earring. That would be cool," Timothee was grasping at straws, desperate to not accept the gloomy reality that was encroaching his mind.   
"I can't, I'm sorry," for Armie, the feeling of fear won out.

Timothee nodded his head and quickly put the necklace back in the box, tossing it into his bookbag. Carla watched from afar, reeling from the embarrassment. 

"Why don't you want it?" His voice broke, he wasn't even able to look Armie in the face anymore. Armie took a step back and turned his gaze to the floor, he knew why he didn't want it but just didn't want to say it. 

Crushed beyond belief, Timothee threw the hood of the poncho over his head and ran back out into the rain. Praying that it was all just a bad dream and he'd eventually wake up.


	10. Untitled Princess Carla Project

A thunderous crash roared through his empty loft as he shut the mighty door behind him. Timothee fell face first into his couch, the necklace he purchased earlier dangling between his thin fingers. It was for Armie, it was to show him that he was willing to try, he was willing to open up and all he got was an uneasy rejection. His mind was spiraling at near light speed into the darkness, nothing around him made any sense and he just needed some grounding before things took a turn that he could never navigate back from.

"Please answer, please answer," he whispered as he phoned his dad. Not exactly his optimal choice but unfortunately for Timothee he had no one else to talk to.   
"What's going on, Tim?" his dad had that same short and cold tone that Timothee had.  
"I think I fucked things up with Armie," he started. "When I was downtown today I saw this really gorgeous necklace, it was beautiful, dad. It made me think of Armie and I got it for him because I just... I felt good about it and I thought he would too," Timothee's sweet voice wavering tirelessly between fragility and anger.  
"He didn't want it did he?"  
"No," Timothee was choking up, forcing himself to keep the tears inside.  
"You won't give up on him," his dad replied like a machine spitting out code to answer questions that had yet to be asked.  
"What makes you say that?"  
"Listen to yourself son, think of what you've already done for him and think of what you were willing to do. I know you want to cry right now, I know you want to scream, and I bet you probably might kill him."  
"Can I?" Timothee laughed.  
"I'd rather you didn't but I can't exactly stop you, can I?" his dad's tone was warmer than when he answered.  
"Where do I go from here?"  
"You have to just take things slow for now son, you made a jump and it didn't work out and that's okay. That's what people do. I know that's a hard concept for you but think of it this way: at least he's allowing you to feel something."  
"That's true."  
"I haven't heard any emotion out of you since mom passed. You be good my child."

He sat upright, looking at the necklace and a small smile took over his lips. He was proud of himself for giving Armie a shot, he was proud of himself for making an effort to potentially form some sort of relationship and even though things didn't go according to plan he was able to see nothing but the upsides of the day. He was crushed yes, but he felt better as a person which is ultimately all Timothee could ask for. He slid the necklace on and fell back into the couch, choosing to no longer dwell on the negative but embrace the sudden feeling of peace and euphoria that flowed through him.

Timothee had spent the better part of his life thinking he'd never be happy again, thinking that he'd never be able to feel anything for anyone but this subtle rejection had started a shift in his entire outlook on life. "I'm okay," he pondered aloud sinking deeper into the couch.

"You sir, are a goddamn idiot," Carla said slapping Armie upside the head.  
"I wasn't ready for that!" He exclaimed.  
"You better hope he doesn't slit your throat in your sleep."  
"I think he'd rather me be awake for my own death."  
"Why didn't you take the necklace?"

No response. Armie shifted his eyes back to the floor, he had no good reason for not taking the necklace. Or actually, he didn't take it out of fear. Out of fear that he wouldn't be anything worthy of Timothee.

"You can run all you want but when you're old and worn out and have no one to turn to then what are you going to do?" She asked.  
"It's not like that Carla and I don't think you're being fair."  
"No, Armie it is exactly like that and you're being a goddamn idiot like I just said. Let's go, I'm taking you over to his place right now."  
"Like hell!" Armie protested.  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
"Carla, I'm not ready."  
"He's willing to try. Why aren't you? You've talked about him for so long and now that you have the chance you're going to hide?"  
"I don't want-"  
"Love. You never did."

The biting truth that Armie always knew but chose to ignore. Love was always his biggest fear in life, the idea that he'd fall head over heels in love with a guy and before he knew it he'd get his heart snapped in two. That was the fear that always held him back. That was the fear that made him go through guy after guy, forever trying to feed an insatiable hunger for companionship without any of the hangups that come along with it. 

"So," Carla started. "I'll ask once more, am I taking you to his place or not?"  
"I'm so scared. What if he doesn't want to see me?"  
"That's a chance you have to take. You fucked this situation up, not him. So it is now your responsibility to fix it."  
"Now it's my responsibility?" Armie resented her words and shot back in equal venom.  
"Yes! It is, you are a grown ass man, Armie. You can't keep living the way you do and talk about how terrible it is and do nothing to fix it. You have a golden opportunity staring you right in the face right now and you're running from it!"  
"Bullshit! You're just pushing for this so hard because you don't have anyone either." Armie went in for the jugular. "Just because you've been through some heartbreaks in the past doesn't mean I need to go through them too."

Carla stepped back in astonishment, completely blown away that Armie would bring up her past as a way to step around his own issues but she saw right through him. She knew it was nothing directly against, just a form of self-preservation. Carla had always been willing to open herself up, she always felt that if it was meant to be it would be and if not she would simply just learn from her mistakes and move forward. That's the kind of person Carla was. 

"No, I am not involved with anyone right now, that much is true," there was somber wisdom to Carla's words. "But when I look back in reflection at least I can say I tried. At least I can say I have some good memories and I've learned so much about myself. At least I can still speak to some of those people and go out with them and be a good friend. What do you have Armie?"

He had nothing. They both knew it too.

"You can throw rocks from your house all you want but unlike you at least I have the balls to take a step outside of my four walls," she paused to finish the rest of her wine. "So, it's fine. You can throw Timothee away and go sleep with another random guy off the street. You enjoy those empty sensations. And when that random guy is gone and you're in your bed alone and desperately looking for another fix I want you to remember this moment. He reached out for you and you ran with your tail between your legs," she placed the empty glass on the counter and escorted herself out.

Armie stood in the same spot she left him like the bewildered fool that he was. Carla had eviscerated him from top to bottom without missing a single beat, not a false word left her lips. 

"Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddddddddddd I feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel! Like I just! Got! Home!" Timothee wailed at the top of his lungs alongside Madonna's Ray of Light blaring in the background. He had been dancing on the cold floors for a better part of an hour, dancing was one of his many workouts and he was overflowing with positive energy. 

Before he could belt out that last chorus how he wanted he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He knew who it was, "I'll be right there!" Quickly, he changed into less sweat-stained clothing and shut off his music. 

"Hello," he said with a smile as he opened the door.  
"Can we talk?" Armie replied, extending out a beautiful bouquet for Timothee.  
"Oh, Armie," Timothee took the flowers and delighted in their aroma. "They're beautiful. Come in."

Armie slid in but kept his distance from Timothee, he felt the niceness he was getting was far out of character and it terrified him. Timothee lead him to the kitchen counter and sat across from him, the colorful vibrancy of the bouquet was a nice contrast to the solid concrete floor beneath them. Timothee had thrown the flowers down when he got into the kitchen.

"You're wearing the necklace," Armie started.  
"I should pull your eyes out of your skull and make you watch as I skull fuck you," Timothee replied, the smile had yet to leave his face.  
"I deserve that."  
"Had it been anyone else, I'd have killed them the moment they came to my door. But," his voice danced quietly in Armie's ears, "I like you. I don't know how or why and I really don't want to after you didn't take this necklace but that's just how I feel. Now, why don't you like me?" Timothee asked.  
"I'm obsessed with you, Tim. I think about you all the time and I love every second that I spend with you but what if I'm... what if we don't last?"  
"Then we don't last," Timothee was far more mature about this than Armie, thanks mostly to his dad. "It won't be the end of the world. However, I've already made my offer. And I'm not doing it again. So, now it's your turn."  
"I'm sorry about earlier today, I'm really, really sorry," Armie started.  
"Good start, keep going."  
"I had a talk with Carla. It was pretty uncomfortable but she was right about everything she said."  
"Did she say I'm the most amazing guy around and you should be thanking your fucking stars that I talk to you? Did she say you should also get your will notarized? Did she also say that there's nothing I can physically do to you that can hurt you as bad as what you just did to me?" Timothee's sharp sarcasm balanced a precious mix of his emotions. He was still hurting, but he still had hope and it was all covered with fear. A fear that Armie recognized and dabbled in within himself, too.  
"I don't deserve you, Timothee," Armie replied earnestly. "I don't how I've gotten this far with you and I don't know how I'll be able to keep up with you but I want to try. I want to be with you more than anything else. I know I'm going to fuck this up so much more but please stay with me." 

His tone hit Timothee where he'd never felt it before. Timothee knew the words were genuine and he felt in his spirit that there was not a single soul on this planet he'd rather give this chance to than Armie. He looked for Armie's eyes and when they found each other it was the same feeling of nirvana that made him feel safe. The two held hands from across the counter and for once, everything felt right between them.


	11. Ropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's a little vulgar

Winter was always Timothee's least favorite time of year, it's when he felt most exposed and alone in the world. The snow and cold winds force people indoors for most of the day leaving him nothing but quiet. In that quiet is where he can no longer find an escape from the dark thoughts that are always bubbling under a good amount of noise. 

His eyes, still low from just waking up, fell on Armie who was sound asleep next to him. The two have lived in bliss since the spring, like a mightly flower impervious to its surroundings. The titanic walls that once guarded Timothee were all toppled by Armie, whose refusal to let go is what really cemented their relationship. They both were willing to fight, and damn near kill, for each other and with that common ground how couldn't they wind up together? Two utter madmen on their own but together they find peaceful normality. As if they had lived entire lives together and now just enjoy the presence. 

Still, the most elite assassin in the world, Timothee didn't feel complete. There was one last step between him and Armie: sex. They have been together seven months and the farthest they've made it was just some drunk dry humping. Armie wanted it bad, he'd spent so much time thinking of how he wanted to fuck the smugness out of Timothee and each time he thought about it, it was a quick trip to the bathroom with plenty of paper towels to clean up the mess. They've been sending pictures to each other, tossing more fuel into the fire but there was a certain fear. Timothee would wear skin tight underwear around the house, and nothing more when Armie was around. He even took up yoga, on his matt he'd spend hours of the day in the most fuckable positions without even flinching. One day, Armie came in to see him with his face in the matt and his ass perfectly framed in the air. He made an immediate move for the bathroom because he came right there in his pants just from the sight. 

In silence, Timothee retrieved some ropes from a hidden compartment in his closet. He had Armie's hands and feet tied to his bedposts in no time. He smiled as his man continued a tranquil slumber and then slipped himself into the shower. 

It only took a few minutes for the sound of running water to nudge Armie out of his sleep. He turned to admire the view out of Timothee's gargantuan windows but felt his heart sink into his ass when he saw that he was roped up. 

"Timothee!" He hollered at the top of his lungs. He hollered it repeatedly, deathly afraid that somehow someone had snuck in and snuffed Timothee and he was next. It was a coarse mixture of fear for his boyfriend and anger at his own failure. With all his might he tried to get out of those ropes but they were tied in the most intricate patterns that simply prevented them from breaking. Armie fell into the bed and called out for Timothee one last time.

"Hey," his sweet voice called back. Timothee sauntered in slowly until he was at the foot of the bed, he dropped the towel and stepped back so the sun could fall on his impeccably smooth skin. It was his first time naked in front of Armie.  
"You fucking cunt," Armie replied with sick glee. He fought against his restraints again but it was a fool's game. 

Naked and still slightly moist, Timothee crawled onto the bed and hovered over Armie, reached his hands under the pillow then pulled out the sharpest little knife. Armie's eyes bulged back in fear but before he could say anything his mouth was covered by Timothee's free hand. The naked boy kissed his cheek and hushed him. Timothee ran the knife under Armie's boxers and in an instant, they simply fell off Armie's legs. His dick stood at full attention, veins bulging, balls tight, he was as hard as the concrete floor. 

"I'm impressed," Timothee stated as he marveled at the wondrous slab of meat before him.  
"What are you going to do with it?" Armie replied in that velvet smooth baritone that he knew melted Timothee every time.  
"Whatever I want to."  
"I swear to God you-"  
"I am your God," Timothee cooed in Armie's ear. His voice was sweeter than candy and so delicate that it only drove Armie even madder.  
"And I worship you," Armie gasped as he felt a warm hand around his cock. 

Timothee was highly inexperienced as he hadn't been with a man in years but he's been training his body and his mind for months. His plan of action was to render Armie totally helpless and then to wring him dry. 

"Don't speak," Timothee shoved Armie's own boxers into his mouth and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. He trailed his tongue all over Armie's neck, patiently looking for the spot that would cause the most shivers. Luckily for Timothee, Armie's whole neck was the spot. Each time he flicked his tongue or kissed on it Armie trembled and his eyes roll back. He gave up on trying to break free from the ropes and it was now time to enjoy the ride. 

Timothee's tongue then fell down into Armie's armpit, he gave it a lick and recoiled back. That masculine aroma was heavenly but armpit licking didn't do anything for anyone here. He traveled his tongue to Armie's chest, his hairs already glistened with sweat.

"You okay up there?" Timothee called out with Armie's dick now covering his face.  
"Yeah," Armie's tone was incredibly relaxed. "I'm letting you have your fun for now."  
"Oh, you're letting me?" He replied sarcastically.  
"I am. Once I get out of these ropes I'm going to fuck the breath out of you."

Now it was Timothee who shivered. But he was determined to be the victor today, he wanted Armie weak. So he went in for the kill. He took a breath large enough to fill his lungs and went down as far as his throat could manage on Armie's dick. It was long, probably a solid 8 inches and a good thickness too. Timothee felt soft hairs on his nose and knew he almost got the whole thing in there, he braced himself and pushed down just a little further until Armie's dick had disappeared in his mouth. 

He found himself desperately needing to breathe but Timothee had the quality of never letting anyone see him sweat. He took a moment to shift his breath through his nostrils and pushed his mouth down even further as the spit began to dribble out of his mouth down to Armie's heavy balls. Armie's toes curled and he balled his fists in sheer ecstasy, no one had ever deepthroated him but Timothee was able to do it on his first try. He was obsessed with this boy. 

Timothee pulled back letting that monster cock spring free. It was wet with saliva and dancing with joy. Timothee looked up at Armie who was flushed red and flashed the cutest smile at him. 

"Don't you fucking smile at me," Armie laughed. "Come here."  
"What do you want?" Timothee asked innocently as he crouched back up to Armie.  
"Sit on my face," he demanded.  
"I've never had that before."  
"Perfect. Now sit."

Timothee flipped himself over and aimed his perfect peach of an ass right above Armie's face just out of reach. He licked all over the head of Armie's dick until his delighted moans returned and then sucked quietly on it. He took another big breath and the lower he went on that dick the lower his ass fell onto Armie's face until he felt a tongue hit his hole and pubes hit his nose. 

Between the flicking of his tongue and how he could always guide it inside Timothee's hole, Armie was doing a bang-up job of giving Timothee his first rimming session. The slender boy was sucking Armie as his life depended on it but every now and then he'd lose his concentration as his tongue was assaulted by the tongue. He had never experienced pleasure like that in his entire life and it was driving him insane. Timothee's legs would shake and his eyes would go heavy. He gripped Armie's legs with a demented force and finally let the moans flow from his lips as he got his ass ate until it was tender. 

"A-Armie," he called out in staccato breaths. He tried placing that beautiful dick back into his mouth many times but his concentration was totally shattered. He pushed his ass further down and felt a churning in his balls as Armie's tongue plunged even deeper. Armie just needed a tongue to bring Timothee to the brink and they both knew it. 

If he was this good with his tongue how fantastic is the dick? Timothee thought to himself. All he wanted after that licking was to get absolutely hammered. He wanted Armie to own his ass until the sun dropped and both of their bodies were completely worn out. He grabbed the knife from off the stand next to the bed and cut Armie free. 

Armie yanked the knife out of Timothee's hands and tossed it out the room as he flipped Timothee onto his stomach. His hole was still wet with Armie's spit, that's all the lube he was going to get. Armie grabbed Timothee by the neck and held him in place his dick was just outside of entry.

"Take a deep breath boy," Armie grunted.

Timothee quickly swallowed as much air as he could and felt everything go black as Armie's dick expanded his walls deeper and deeper until he was completely submerged. The emerging pain quickly overcome with pleasure as Armie begin his strokes, they were slow but long. He needed Timothee to be able to handle his size before he really went all out.

"Is that all you got?" Timothee asked in short breaths.

Armie pulled out so far that only his head remained in Timothee's hole. He knew what the boy was doing, it was a common tactic but he also knew that Timothee had practically no experience in this arena.

So he knew he had to give him a fuck he'd remembered the rest of his life. In one deep stroke, he plunged all the way back inside, slamming his dick in Timothee's insides. The boy yelped out as those hard, balls deep strokes continued to assault his hole. His yelps growing fainter and drawn out as his ass clapped against Armie's thighs. The sweat formed in the perfect arch of his back and he knew he couldn't fight it. He was bound to just lay there and get fucked however Armie wanted to fuck him. Armie pushed him down further into the bed and kept hammering without the slightest bit of mercy. He was going to have Timothee limping to work after this. 

Slowing down just a little, Armie grabbed Timothee's hips and stood upright on the floor and put his boy on all fours. His grip was firm and he found a perfect stride. Relentlessly pounding into him like an animal, both of them had been teetering on the edge of an explosion but it was all a game of who was going to break first. Timothee was in total nirvana, a smile plastered across his face as he got fucked. Armie behind him, towering over him and ramming him like an animal finally out of the cage. Both were peaking. Timothee felt his legs strain, his body was tight and this butt fuck was quickly about to overcome him. He shot forward and fell on his back, panting like a dog.

"I still have my breath," Timothee stated. It was in labored breaths but he was correct.  
"Not for much longer."

Armie leaped onto the bed and forcefully slid Timothee toward him. He pushed his feet up to his head and jammed his tongue in Timothee's hole, far more open than it was before. Still holding his feet, he rose back up and gave the softest kiss. 

"I love you," Armie blushed dramatically as the sweet words left his mouth.  
"I love you too," Timothee smiled at him. "Now own me."

Armie pushed his dick in, deeper and deeper until he found Timothee's spot and that's when he knew he won this round. Timothee's emerald eyes dropped, his mouth dropped, his entire body shook. Armie pulled out just a little and slammed right back into that same spot causing Timothee to have that exact same reaction. As Armie's strokes quickened, they hardened too. Timothee yelled into the pillow until Armie tossed it away, he tried biting the sheets too until Armie threw those on the floor as well, he covered his mouth with his hands but then found them pressed into the bed by Armie.

Timothee couldn't even form words as the two locked eyes. Armie was ravaging his ass far more than he ever expected, the more his spot was hit the closer Timothee was to release. He tried to squeeze Armie out but the mighty top caught on to his trick. It seemed like Armie was always able to go harder no matter what happened, Timothee knew he couldn't take much more of this.

Timothee shut his eyes and moaned at the top of his lungs as his juices spilled out from his untouched cock. Waves of intense pleasure vibrated through his entire body as the world around him melted into nothing more than shapeless colors all blending into each other. Not even a full second later did it take Armie to experience those same colors as he pumped his biggest load into Timothee's ass, finally claiming it as his own. His cock spasmed as the explosion felt endless.

Armie collapsed onto Timothee. Both of them totally worn out and panting for air.


	12. A Storm of Swords

Armie continued his quiet lurch in the shadows as he watched Timothee, legs spread, on the couch eating muffins with a small dao blade. He pondered as to why a blade was needed and if any, why a dao blade? The slender boy sat there smiling with morning cartoons and a blade just for some damn muffins. No wonder he's the most cream of the crop when it came time for executions. Armie swallowed big and made a quiet move to the couch, he kept a safe distance between himself and Timothee.

"I could kill you right now if I wanted to," Timothee started.

Armie half turned to him and then scooted more into the edge of the couch. Timothee twirled the knife between all five of his fingers, the blade moving faster than Armie's eyes could keep up. The worst part about it was his smile, it was too damn cute. 

"Okay," Armie cleared his throat. "Why are you eating a muffin with a fucking blade like that?"  
"It's a blueberry muffin," Timothee earnestly replied.

Unsure if he was awake or in some sort of demented dream, Armie just maintained a sharp focus on Timothee. His reply made no sense.

"Enjoy your muffins, babe."  
"I made enough for two." Timothee flung a muffin Armie's way with the blade. "Anywho, I have an assignment today so I have to go soon, in about an hour or so," he huffed.  
"Oh cool, have fun," Armie replied obliviously.

Timothee folded his blade and dropped on the stand next to him. Armie sighed in relief, still trying to process that morning visual. He noticed the slim legs next to him were shaking, he noticed Timothee's obnoxious gazing all around the room too. What was that boy up to? Armie hopped a cushion over so they would be closer and was instantly hit with ridiculous body heat. Timothee wanted to get fucked, that's why he was being a little off. 

"You okay there, bud?" Armie asked in feigned innocence.  
"Me? Oh, yeah, I'm straight. I'm great!" Timothee exclaimed through tightened teeth. 

Feeling annoyed, Timothee hopped off the couch and went over to his yoga matt. First position? Downward dog. This was his attempt at asking for sex again without verbalizing it because he didn't want to give Armie that power over him, it didn't feel right. However, Armie sniffed out his game and was more than willing to play it just as hard. As Timothee held his downward dog, Armie plopped down right in front and sprawled out on his back like a starfish. All he had on was a pair of very tight briefs, they left not much to the imagination. Timothee spotted his massive bulge out of his peripheral and his mouth salivated with no hesitation. He wanted to jump face first between Armie's thighs. Armie's hairy, strong thighs. 

Timothee licked his lips in heat and before his tongue could even complete the move he saw Armie was staring right at him. A shiteating grin on his face, he was watching Timothee the entire time. Timothee was growing more annoyed and huffed dramatically as he got up to his feet and walked over to the kitchen counter. He bent over and started playing games on his phone.

Armie remained on the floor, legs spread and not even trying to get a glimpse of what Timothee was doing. He wanted to get the ball in his court and if that meant he had to play a game of hard to get than by God he was going to do it. Of course, he would love to be balls deep in Timothee again but he thought of himself as the harder egg to crack.

"Don't you have to get to work, honey?" The sarcasm dripping over every word he said.  
"No," Timothee replied sharply. "Not for a whole hour. 60 minutes. 3600 damn seconds."  
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six-"  
"What the fuck are you doing?" Timothee interrupted.  
"I was going to count to 3600. Just for you, dear," Armie's delight in tormenting Timothee was clear.  
"Keep counting," Timothee held that dao blade right above Armie's face. "Go ahead, please continue."  
"Timothee!" Armie gasped like the worst actor in a high school play. "What's gotten into you?!"  
"I want to carve my initials into your skin."  
"Are you okay, my love? Do you need anything?" Armie asked while shuffling to his feet, towering over Timothee like he always does.  
"I don't need anything."  
"Oh? There's nothing you need right now?"

Armie pressed into his space, his chest now at Timothee's close eye line. The smaller boy took a step back towards the titanic windows behind him. Armie followed in tandem.

"I'm good, I'm fine," the agitation in Timothee's tone said otherwise.  
"You seem tense," Armie's baritone floated in Timothee's ears. "Sure you don't need anything?"  
"I need you to leave me alone."  
"Alright," Armie leaned in close enough to plant a kiss on Timothee's ear but he kept that tiny bit of distance alive. He knew his breath alone falling on the boy's neck was enough to get him riled up. "I'll leave you alone then." 

As Armie crept backward Timothee reached for his hips and pulled him back closer. He liked feeling Armie's warm breath on his skin.

"I need... some... things," his voice was ginger and soft.  
"What things do you need?" Armie replied.  
"You know what things," Timothee mumbled.  
"Say it," Armie cradled his lover's face, enjoying his smooth skin.  
"No," Timothee swatted his hands away and made a move back to the kitchen counter.

Armie, on the other hand, went back to the couch. It was up to the morning cartoons to take his mind off the barely dressed boy in the room. The barely dressed boy who he wanted to slam up against those excessively mammoth windows and demolish. He wanted to fuck the voice out of Timothee. Send him to work with a limp. 

Behind him, Timothee stood stone-faced and extremely pissed off. He wanted dick but didn't want to say dick, he didn't want Armie to know how much he liked being dominated because he himself didn't even know he would like it to such an extent. But it made sense, really. Timothee's has total control of every aspect of his life, every detail about him is meticulously curated and crafted by his mind. Nothing about him gets in or out without him fine-combing it and tailoring it to his liking. So, to have some burly man come into his bed and totally ravage him was the ultimate fantasy. It relaxed him, it transported his mind to a free place. A free place where he could just lie there and get absolutely railed. 

Armie watched Timothee stomp into his bedroom and when he heard the shower turn on he assumed the game was over. A pity, he wanted to continue to play. He was about to turn his gaze back to the television until he watched Timothee come back out the bedroom, the water droplets already clinging to his slim frame. 

"Forgot my phone," he remarked out of view.

Before disappearing back into the bedroom, Timothee dropped his towel. He performed the world's slowest bend to pick it up. It made him cringe because he thought Armie would laugh at him for doing such a thing but the air remained silent. He didn't even wrap the towel back around his body, he just let it drag as he vanished out of sight. Armie was so hard his dick threatened to rip through the fabric of his underwear. He was over this game now.

The bathroom door was open, hot steam already set in it. Armie stood in front of the shower, watching Timothee bathe in the water. All that separated them was a glass door. Out of the corner of his eye, Timothee spotted him. He bent over again, letting the suds wash off his smooth bottom. 

"Armie," his sweet voice called.  
"Hm," Armie grunted, his underwear already at his feet.  
"I need you," Timothee's voice draped over the room like a dark velvet curtain, Armie was trapped. "I need you," his words stated in a more alluring tone, sweeter than chocolate.

Armie opened the door and crept in. Walking up to Timothee until he had him flush against the wall, their eyes locked. Armie's hands cupped Timothee's soft butt and he spun him around, pressing his face into the wall. 

That downpour of a shower wasn't going to stand a chance against the sounds Armie was going to fuck out of Timothee.


	13. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than I usually do but I had a little idea to move this story forward and I wanted to continue the previous chapter. Hope y'all enjoy :)

"Fu-fuck me, fuck me," Timothee huffed out. His breaths were staggered and shallow. Armie had him pressed hard into the wall. The steaming shower barely enough to cover up Timothee's submissive growlings. He loved the freedom he had from Armie's pounding, it released a side of him that he hardly knew existed. This was a side to him he only dreamed of, he never thought this version of himself would exist in reality. 

Armie dug his fingers deeper into Timothee's thighs with one hand and with the other he maintained a tight lock of his hair. Those were his anchors to maintain stability as he knocked away on Timothee's ass, the mighty sound of his ass clapping danced on every molecule of water in the shower. 

Timothee groaned and moaned until his voice felt coarse and his knees felt weak. His hands trembled on the wall and he fell back on Armie partly for comfort, partly for being held up as he got railed. Armie wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, barbaric grunting as he practically lifted Timothee into the air, fucking him deep, fucking him into pure submission, this was the one avenue Armie knew he would win over Timothee. He relished in his power and it unlocked thoughts, it unlocked frustration, and most importantly: it made him love Timothee even more. Armie loved to see Timothee submit to him, he loved it because there is no submission without trust and understanding. Timothee trusted Armie, Timothee may not have been the best at expressing his feelings but his body never lied. 

Armie placed him back down gingerly, he placed Timothee against the wall and held him there. The hot water pouring down over both of their bodies. They both were spent, trying to regain their breath. Timothee leaned more forward, letting Armie's dick fall out of his ass, he eventually turned around. The two of them now face to face. 

Timothee held his thumb on Armie's lips, admiring the fullness of them. He fell into the bright, sun-kissed sea that was Armie's eyes. They were just barely hidden out of sight as Armie struggled to keep the water away. Timothee seemed impervious to the water, his big emerald eyes shined between the droplets. Armie leaned in for a kiss but didn't land it. He hovered his lips right over Timothee's and they seemed to breathe into each other. 

"I really love you," Timothee hushed.  
"Why do you?" Armie pondered, still hovering right above Timothee with his hands on the wall at shoulder level.  
"You're patient with me," Timothee's forehead fell on Armie's chest. "I know I can be rough but you let me get things out and," Timothee paused. Trying to catch his breath.   
"You're everything to me," Armie blurted out before Timothee could finish the idea. 

He planted a kiss in Timothee's wet hair, it was all the assuring either of them could need. The words were nice but they both struggled with them, they didn't like them too much. These two are physical beings. 

Timothee lead Armie to the bench that flanked their right. He pushed Armie down on the bench and then pushed apart his thighs with his own slim legs. Timothee turned to face outside the shower and slowly dropped his plump butt down Armie's dick, the thickness of it making his eyes roll back and flutter. He swallowed the air and let his ass take in as much as it could. He rocked his hips back and forth, bucking them faster and faster completely bottoming out as Armie's dick had disappeared inside him, disappeared entirely. 

Armie's head dipped back onto the wall, his mouth open just enough to let his gravelly moans escape into the air. He sat back and watched his boy ride him as well as he could, Timothee was moving a little too fast, too uncontrolled, but he admired the passion. He admired how Timothee simply wanted to make Armie feel good and was shamelessly going for it. His hands found their way to Timothee's hips and Armie decided he would guide him just a little bit. Timothee found a new rhythm, much smoother and cleaner. Armie's legs tensed up and his heavy balls grew tight.

He leapt to his feet, kept his grip on Timothee and pushed in harder. Timothee yelped out in joy as Armie started to fuck him more forcefully, he bent down to grab his ankles and gasped for air as the pounding commenced. Armie rammed him, he hammered him, he drilled him, he was fucking him so hard he thought that Timothee probably wouldn't be able to complete his mission today. And he kept fucking him just like that. He wanted to fuck the sense out of Timothee, he wanted to knock him off his game. What was once a passionate, love-filled session in the shower had now turned into a twisted manipulation tactic. Armie's eyes shined, full of lust and jealousy of the bottom below him. 

A smile fell on his face, a smile he didn't understand but took joy in any way.


	14. Wunderkind

Armie watched with glee as Timothee pulled off his execution. His setup was clean and very easy to take apart. All in all, it took him a staggering 5 minutes to finish the mission. He used a long range rifle and managed to take out a target 4 miles away on a private golf course with a clean shot right through the temple. Armie doesn't have anything nearly as impressive on his record. He packed the binoculars into his bag and made sure there were no traces of him left behind as he dropped down to the ground below. 

A gun cocked in the distance. Armie figured it was Timothee, toying with him. He was maybe a few hundred yards away at best during his mission but surely their paths through the trees became much closer. The smile was wiped off his face when a bullet pierced a pine cone not even a full foot above his head. He froze in place, gasping for air and rubbing his hands all over his body to make sure there was no blood. 

"What are you doing here?" Timothee asked impatiently, his gun still in position.  
"I wanted to see the man of the hour," Armie replied sarcastically.  
"I don't like to be watched. You could have ruined my mission!" Timothee's cheeks were flushing red in anger.  
"Please," Armie scoffed. "I'll throw the wunderkind off his game, sure."  
"Do you want me to kill you?" Timothee aimed the gun at Armie's temple.  
"What?"  
"Why are you here? Don't lie to me either."  
"Tim put the gun down. I thought you'd like the surprise."

Timothee and the gun didn't budge. Armie took a step back and held his hands in the air. With each step he took back Timothee took a step forward. A danse macabre that went on until Armie was backed onto a tree. 

"Okay, I don't like this, Tim," Armie's voice was fragile.   
"I thought we were fine," the young boy's voice cracked.  
"We are fine. I'm just jealous. You can do no wrong to anyone. Do you know how many people come up to me and tell me not to fuck this up? How many people tell me how lucky I am to have you?"  
"That has nothing to do with me!" He yelled back. "I don't take my problems out on you buddy and we know I have enough to spare. While you're prancing around green with envy, I'm terrified that one day you're not going to come back home. That one day some thin little thing is going to catch your eye and poof you're gone. Things haven't been all that between us, Armie."

A revelation that Armie knew but he didn't think Timothee had it in the back of his brain as well. Things were good but they could have been better. What good can two people do when they don't know how to talk to each other?

"The mystery is gone and it took the thrill with it," Timothee started, still holding his rifle to Armie. "You're not afraid of me because you know me. Now that you know me you think I'm boring," the tears staining his words. "If I'm not what you want please don't let me stand around and look foolish, I'd never be that cruel to you."

Armie felt the words crush every bit of his ridiculous plan of messing up Timothee's kill. Was he jealous? Absolutely, but bored? He looked at every day as a challenge, every day was a new way to get Timothee to laugh or smile but he could never tell him that. He saw it as too saccharine for him. 

"I don't want to do anything without you," Armie's scruffy voice carried through the air.  
"Then what is happening right now?"  
"We have to talk to each other more. I should probably grow up a little," he chuckled.  
"Yeah, that'd be great if you could," Timothee smiled at him as he finally lowered the gun.   
"I can breathe now thank goodness."  
"Just so you know," Timothee said in a hushed tone as he stepped against Armie. "That pine cone wasn't an accident."  
"I'd expect nothing less. So am I forgiven?"  
"Hm, not sure."

Before he could trail off too far Timothee was snatched back by Armie and pushed face first into a tree. The impact leaving a few cuts on his face but he wasn't even slightly phased. Armie forcefully yanking at his tight camouflage pants until they were down to his ankles, the little bugger wasn't wearing any underwear. 

"Were you expecting company?" Armie asked while cupping those bubble cheeks he's come to love these past few months.  
"I was going to surprise you when I got back home," Timothee blushed.  
"I like surprises, do you like surprises, babe?"  
"Depends."

Armie held his hand over Timothee's mouth and in one hard push, he buried his dick in that ass until it was balls deep inside. Timothee bit down on his fingers but nothing could stop Armie right now. He sandwiched the boy between the tree and himself and pounded as hard as he could. Getting out all the frustration, stupidity and jealousy. Was this the healthiest way? It couldn't be, it was sick but they both loved it. 

Timothee whimpered and whined and tried as he might to pull Armie's hand away but he was in heaven from the start. His eyes constantly rolling back in his head as the sound of his ass getting clapped filled the forest. Wave after wave of ecstasy roared through his body, the waves matching the maniacal thrusts Armie gave him. He reached for the tree, trying to pry his hole away from Armie but got pulled right back into place and fucked even harder.

Armie yanked him off the ground by the waist, pummeling Timothee until the slender boy couldn't even form proper words anymore. Only labored, staccato, hoarse moans left his mouth. Each sound fucked out him as if his body didn't even belong to him anymore. Armie could have fucked Timothee until the sun abandoned the land. So that's exactly what he did. 

The woods were dark, nothing visible except the stars and two pairs of eyes. Two pairs of eyes that were locked onto each other as one person held up the other, slamming so hard into each other that could have formed one. Armie was beginning to tire, his arms shaking. He knew Timothee was satisfied, the boy had already dropped three loads by this point but Armie wanted total domination. 

He lifted Timothee into the air, letting his dick slide out into the breeze. Escaping with a plop as Timothee caught his breath in his ear.

"Let's get home," Armie said as he let Timothee's legs fall to the ground.  
"Why?" He could barely stand up straight. "You didn't finish," Timothee felt deflated.  
"That's right I didn't. So when we get home you're going to have to make it up to me, correct?"  
"Mhm," Timothee leaned in so Armie could carry him to the car.  
"Fucking in the woods at night. Not my best idea," Armie said.  
"It really was pretty stupid," Timothee replied.


End file.
